No, I shouldn’t. It’s too soon... too dangerous. I should protect myself in case this bubble bursts. In case he leaves once I tell him about my father, or when his brothers decide I’m not worth forgiveness, but... when he touches me like he’s worshipping every inch and kisses me like he’s trying to show me who I belong to, I stop overthinking, and just feel.
I part my lips, throwing caution to the wind. “Cody, I—”
“I know,” he whispers, sealing my lips. “I know, baby.”
I feel it in our gestures. See it in his eyes. Taste it on his lips.
This is it. What I never wanted to happen, happened, and now we’re both desperate to let the other one know because this...us... it’s perfect in all its imperfections. It’s right.
And well overdue, seeing how fast we fell.
“I hate you more,” he says, caressing every inch of my skin he can reach.
That word feels right.
The hate we harbored evolved. So has the definition, at least for us, and we both mean a different four-letter word.
“I hate you so. Fucking. Much,” he breathes, pressing his lips to my forehead.
“I hate you more.”
THIRTY
Cody
WITH TWO CUPS OF COFFEE and a bag of Jolly Ranchers, I cross the airport, heading into the departure lounge. The symphony of rolling suitcases, conversations, and announcements thunders loud enough that I can’t hear my thoughts.
Loud enough to muffle the quiet doubts prickling my mind. I want B by my side, but I’d be lying if I said I’m not worried about my brothers’ reaction.
It took a few days to convince Blair she should come. A few long days of chats, sex, declarations, and promises. Maybe the best few days in my life thus far.
It was so freeing to hold her every night, wake up beside her, and come home to find her cooking.
Mundane. Normal. Boring. Fucking amazing.
We spent every minute after I came home from work together. Just the two of us every evening. Well, apart from Monday when I called Ana, asking her to come over, after I read her letter.
My step falters when I turn right toward the cozy couch Blair and I occupied minutes ago and find a different couple there, the guy holding a tumbler of whiskey, the girl scrolling through her socials.
A quick scan of the area tells me Blair’s not here. Maybe she went to the restroom, and the seat poachers swooped in.
“Are you Cody?” the guy in my seat asks.
“Yeah. Why?”
He retrieves a napkin from the pocket of his flannel shirt. “Blair left this for you.”
Dread shudders through me, throwing my hands into a shaking fit that nearly sends Blair’s mochaccino toppling off my black coffee. Quick reflexes save the day as I park everything on the nearest table, before taking the napkin from the man’s outstretched hand.
Even without looking, I know she bailed, but I unfold the napkin anyway, my heart pounding a drum solo. The airport logo is ingrained in the bottom left corner, and scrawled in the middle:
Cody,
Please don’t chase me. I can’t go through with this. We’re not meant to be. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me, and I don’t want to be the worst that happens to you. I should’ve never let this get so far. I’m sorry.
B.
My stomach drops as I read her words once, twice, and then again, each striking a more devastating blow. I fight the growing sense of panic... unsuccessfully. It’s overwhelming, singing in my ears, whooshing through my bloodstream. The sweat from my hands soaks the napkin, smudging the ink as it crumples, and I feel like I’m suffocating.
